


Unleashed

by embersofamber



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, DA2 Kink Meme Fill, DA2 post-game, Drama, Erotica, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embersofamber/pseuds/embersofamber
Summary: Cullen has watched Hawke from the shadows for many years. Now, everything has changed.





	Unleashed

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for the Livejournal DA2 Kink Meme, and was written in 2011. Writing prompt is at the end of the piece to prevent spoiling. ;)

_**Unleashed** _

 

 

* * *

 

Cullen watched her.

 

It was what a templar was trained to do. 

 

Watch over mages and protect them from themselves. Except he had never been allowed to be her watcher. Not officially. All of his observation had been from a careful and frustrating distance. 

 

Hawke was no ordinary mage, but an apostate with powerful support. She wasn’t part of the circle, and never had been. There were times he was profoundly grateful for it, and others, when he had been disturbed by the fact. There had been rumors about her, of course, but by the time she was a known mage, she had already defeated the Arishok and become Champion of Kirkwall. 

 

She didn’t seem to need protection from anything. Or maybe that was just what she expected everyone to believe. That she was invincible. Impossible to defeat when surrounded by her companions. 

 

Unattainable.

 

How many nights had he burned in lust and shame in his private quarters, goaded into action by his own longing? Helplessly stroking himself to climax while picturing her, quietly choking her name against his own clenched fist. It satisfied nothing but the temporary needs of a body long used to sexual deprivation. 

 

He could easily resist a pretty face. Strong will and discipline were never things he lacked. Beauty was pleasant to look on, and Hawke was certainly lovely, there was no question, but that wasn’t the real struggle.

 

The true challenge he faced was how much he wanted to touch her and know her. To lose himself in her, and discover all her secrets. To learn if her cheeks and lips were as soft as they looked. Were the smattering of freckles across her face indicative of others, lower down? 

 

Why was he so tormented when she looked at him with that flirtatious grin of hers? She had always teased him, standing closer to him than was strictly necessary on the occasions they actually spoke, her sweet scent forever imprinted on him. Did she suspect what kind of thoughts he had about her? He had almost managed to convince himself that his attraction was not one-sided. 

 

He had frequently watched her through her bedroom window since he had accidentally discovered she seldom closed her curtains. It was innocent enough, that first time he walked past her Hightown estate after visiting the Chantry.

 

It was not so innocent when he returned on other nights, other occasions, just to catch a glimpse of her. Out of her Champion’s armor, and dressed in soft clothing that did nothing to hide her feminine form. Dark hair unbound and swinging freely around her face.

 

He started making more frequent trips to the Chantry after that. His prayers had changed over the years, just as his feelings had deepened beyond lust and obsession, into something far more tender and frightening.

 

He no longer asked the Maker to take away his sinful thoughts, but merely to give him the patience to wait. For what, he couldn’t really say. Perhaps the vague glimmer of hope that something would change, and he would finally have a chance to tell her how she had tormented him, and how much he loved her.

 

When the Chantry exploded and Meredith went mad, despite the Champion standing with the templars, he thought perhaps his time had finally come. He was now the de facto leader of the templars, but he had bowed to  _her._

 

As he stood outside her estate, looking up at the familiar window, the smoke and rubble of Hightown surrounding him in the dark night, he thought it might be a reflection of his own inner chaos. His careful restraint and control lay in ruins, and only a smoldering resolve remained.

 

Marian Hawke was finally within his reach, and nothing was going to stop him from claiming her. The Champion of Kirkwall was strong, and had never needed to be protected. 

 

But she would soon find she needed protection now.

 

Protection from him.

 

* * *

 

With stealthy movement few were aware he was capable of, Cullen slipped through a back door of the estate, finding it to be the only one not locked. It opened on a small alcove leading into the kitchen.

 

He paused to listen, his ears straining for any sound of life or movement, but there was only the loud swishing of his own blood pounding in his ears. The silence was almost unnatural in its eerie stillness, like the deep breath before the plunge. 

 

He removed his heavy gauntlets, setting them on a low table. His foot snagged on something, and he caught himself, looking down in the dim light that shone through the windows. There were small cracks and larger fissures across the floor, a testament to the violent force of the Chantry’s destruction, the effect rippling across much of Hightown. He took greater care with each step, leaving the kitchen behind and walking down a passageway which eventually opened to a sitting area.

 

It, too, reflected a forlorn abandonment, books scattered across the floor, and a fine coating of dusty powder showing white in the dark. Empty.

 

_She must have fled the city._

 

A crushing disappointment threatened to weaken him, while his mind offered hopeful possibilities of pursuit. A muted sound from above had him spinning warily on the balls of his feet, and walking closer to the stairwell to investigate.

 

The stone steps had buckled, a three inch chasm splitting the middle. A pale yellow glow illuminated the crack under a door beyond the top of the stairs, and he crept forward to investigate.

 

The door slightly ajar, Cullen pushed against it and felt a surge of relief at what he saw within. On a thick rug in front of a crackling fire sat Marian Hawke, papers, clothing, potions and other bits of miscellanea strewn around her. She shoved items into a large canvas pack, her movements dull.

 

He watched her in silence, alarmed he had snuck up on her so easily, when she always seemed so sharp and aware.

 

“Are you here to capture me or kill me, Cullen?” she asked quietly.

 

Relieved she knew it was him, he moved further into the room, stopping close enough to her to feel the heat of the fire and see the way she avoided his gaze, hunching in on herself as her hands came to rest in her lap.

 

“Why would I do either? You stood with the Templars, Marian.”

 

She snorted inelegantly. “Yes, I’m sure that makes up for the fact that my  _friend_ blew the Chantry straight to the Black City.” Resolutely, she began shoving items into the bag, her pace turning frantic. “I have to get out of here,” she muttered.

 

Frowning, Cullen knelt down beside her, reaching out and trapping her hands in his. She met his gaze, blue eyes going wide as green narrowed implacably.

 

“No. I’m not prepared to let you leave Kirkwall. The city needs a Champion now, more than ever to help rebuild and recover.”

 

She turned her face away, stifling a sob in her throat, and trying to beat back the swell of grief threatening to drown her. “I’m no Champion,” she croaked, “I’m just a killer who was lauded instead of punished, because the killing was useful to many. I think my luck might have finally turned.”

 

Cullen frowned and grasped her chin, turning her face toward him. “You take a dark view of yourself. Surely you won’t deny all the good you have done.”

 

Irritably, she pushed his hand away. “You sound like you believe all the drivel and tall tales drunk men tell in the taverns. Grow up, Cullen. The world is an ugly place, and hailing someone as a hero only turns them into an ambitious man’s tool. In the end, we all bleed red.” Her voice turned sharp and bitter.

 

Annoyed and more than a little angry, Cullen yanked her up and shook her shoulders. “Stop this wallowing. It’s beneath you; I know you are better than this.”

 

“I’m not better! I’m selfish, willful, reckless…and other things I can’t think of right now. _You’re_ just too much of a fool to see it!”

 

She struggled against him, snarling in frustration when he pulled her into a tight embrace in the cage of his arms. “Shhh, be still, Marian. Calm yourself.”

 

Magic rose and thickened the air in the room around them. Cullen put his mouth to her ear and whispered. “You don’t want to do that. I’m on your side, don’t make me drain you.”

 

She stayed stiff in his arms a moment longer before melting; sagging against his strength and letting him take her weight. He felt wetness against his neck where she had burrowed her face, and stroked a soothing hand down her back.

 

“You can’t carry the burden for the mistakes of others, sweet Marian. It will rip you apart. Just let it go.”

 

Her breath came rough and ragged, the only sign of her quiet weeping. His arms tightened infinitesimally in sympathy. At length, she drew back slightly and wiped at the tears she had left on his skin.

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t mean to get emotional on you.”

 

Cullen smiled gently. “If it makes you feel better, next time I can cry on your shoulder and then we’ll be even.” 

 

Inside, he was upset to think this woman he had loved for so long had no one to comfort her tears, and with her sensitivity and strongly defined sense of right and wrong, he guessed she had shed more than a few.

 

She laughed a little and dabbed at her eyes, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her nose. “I doubt you would find that very satisfying since my shoulders aren’t as broad as yours. In any case, my problems are not your burden to bear.”

 

He rubbed a thumb across her cheek to catch a stray tear tracing a path down her skin.

 

“I’d like them to be.” He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction, when her lips parted and her breath quickened.

 

She swallowed thickly and answered in a low voice. “I don’t know why.”

 

There were too many reasons swimming through his mind. How could he tell her he had loved her silently from a distance, over the years? That his heart beat faster and the sun shone brighter when she was close by. The very sound of her voice stirred his blood like no other ever had.

 

There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the words, having never been a particularly eloquent man, so he did the only thing he could. The only thing he could think of while she remained soft and pliable in his arms.

 

He lowered his head and kissed her.

 

She sighed against his mouth, swaying closer, her hands reaching up to embrace him and brushing soft fingers against the back of his neck.

 

All the desire, all his pent up years of frustration and want, and yes, even anger, came pouring forth. Like an unchecked rush of water down the mountain, it burst past the barrier of control he had kept in place so carefully. The thin veneer of knightly civility left him in an instant.

 

Clutching her arms in a too-tight grip, he spun her forcibly and slammed her into the wall, knocking the breath from her even as he moved down the slope of her throat, biting and mouthing the skin where he marked her.

 

“Tell me to stop,” he panted, “tell me to go, and I will.” His body protested his words, a throbbing ache low down, demanding he finish what he had started, and he wondered if he could really force himself to obey a command to cease touching her.

 

Marian moaned, a breathy gasp of air escaping when his roughened stubble scratched her skin while his soft lips soothed everywhere they touched.

 

“No,…I don’t….don’t want you to stop.” She drew a breath, her fingers pressing into the leather flaps of the armor encasing his shoulders. The metal surrounding his waist dug into her painfully when he pressed closer. “Cullen, can you take off all the metal?”

 

A surge of triumph coursed through him. She  _wanted_ his touch and his possession, even going so far as to respond to his rough attentions.

 

The sharp rip of fabric filled her ears and cool air kissed her breasts where he had pulled on her clothing, ruining the garment in his haste. He cupped one of her breasts, lifting it to his mouth, and Marian’s head fell back against the wall behind her when he sucked on the peak hard enough to sting. 

 

Losing herself to the pleasant burn in her nipples when he switched sides, it took her a moment to identify the loud thumps she heard, as pieces of his armor hitting the floor.

 

The heat of his mouth disappeared, then he spoke into her ear, his voice deepening since they had begun their passionate embrace.

 

“There are buckles across my back. If you undo them, I can rid myself of this chest plate.”

 

She was suddenly and keenly aware that she was standing in front of Cullen mostly naked, and some latent shyness kept her from meeting his eyes while she helped free him of the final piece of protective covering.

 

He moved away from her just far enough to yank the thing off and drop it to the carpet beneath his feet, then he was back, crushing her lips against his own, hungry, open-mouthed kisses and bruising fingers pressing into her hips.

 

Seeking skin, she tugged on his tunic at the same moment his hand slipped across her thighs, loosening the ties on her smalls and groaning when he cupped her bare center.

 

“I want to touch you,” she moaned, when he grazed her mons and delved deeper, then teased up the small hood of skin atop her clit with his middle finger, spreading her slick liberally.

 

Growling inarticulately, he ripped off his tunic then slid the destroyed housedress off her shoulders, leaving her completely naked and open to his gaze. Lifting his skirting up around his hips, he freed himself and ground his hardness against her.

 

It took a moment before she could reclaim her powers of speech. “What about the bed?” She didn’t completely object to Cullen pounding her into the wall, but thought he might ultimately find a horizontal position more to his liking.

 

He didn’t even spare a glance away from her, lifting one of her legs against his hip before dismissing the suggestion. “Too far away.” Taking his cock in hand, he slid into her wet folds, biting his lip to keep from growling in pleasure while he coated himself in her liquid heat.

 

“Put your arms around me,” he directed her, before lifting her off the floor, waiting a beat while she wrapped her legs tight around him. He balanced her between the wall and his body, then canting his hips upwards, he drove home.

 

Marian’s head contacted the wall behind her again when she thrust out her chest at the sensation of complete possession. She’d never felt so full, or safe _,_ or  _wanted_ , as odd as that thought was _._

 

“Cullen…” Her moan sounded like a question, and he responded with a fiery kiss to her already tingling lips, running his tongue against her lower lip.

 

“I have you, Marian, I won’t ever let you fall. I _swear_ it.”

 

His earnest tone partially broke through the cocoon of pleasure, making her wonder what deeper meaning his words might hold, but the slow glide of his cock was hitting things, deep inside, where she had never before felt anything like it.

 

Urging her to lean her shoulders back against the wall, he held her hips, directing the angle and rhythm of their coupling, grinding against her clit with every inward thrust, and brushing over something that made her sigh and clench around him when he partially withdrew.

 

She was swinging between the pendulum of pleasure and ecstasy, with Cullen as her only center of gravity. Wild magic grew in her core and pulsed outward with his movement, her eyes going wild as she realized she couldn’t contain it.

 

“I can’t! I can’t…Cullen, I can’t hold it back!” 

 

The air thickened with their combined scents of perspiration and musk, and the heaviness of fade-power. Just as she was certain she would do something terrible with her loss of control, she was swept up in a powerful orgasm while she felt Cullen pulling her magic into him even while he pulsed inside, filling her with his seed and bringing her to the brink of ultimate pleasure. 

 

Her vision swam while she rode the waves, fixated on the beautiful look on his face as he found his release. His shoulders and chest were dewy with sweat from his exertions, and he let her down on shaky legs. They collapsed in a breathless heap on the carpeting. 

 

Marian turned her head toward him, her limbs heavy and a welcome ache between her thighs. “Did you drain me?” she asked tiredly.

 

He pulled her against him and tilted her face up so he could brush a soft kiss to her mouth. “I had to, or risk letting you set your house on fire, or worse. That was the most difficult mana drain I have ever attempted.” He closed his eyes and smiled. “I doubt that skill was ever meant to be attempted during such a distraction.” 

 

She giggled, too weak for a real laugh. “I applaud your ability to focus. Perhaps you should consider introducing that scenario when training your recruits. You never know when blood mages may decide to switch to seduction. I daresay it’s already happened more than once in Kirkwall.”

 

He narrowed his eyes, looking down at her innocent expression. “There’s wisdom in your suggestion. You can’t be too careful. In fact, I think I may need to practice that maneuver many more times before I’m proficient, it might be  _years_ before I become a true expert. I’ll need your help, of course.”

 

She batted her eyelashes. “Oh? I thought any mage would satisfy.”

 

He rolled her beneath him with a playful growl. “No other would ever satisfy. Only you; forever you.” He nuzzled her neck and behind her ear, inhaling her scent into his lungs.

 

A hint of darkness entered her eyes. “I don’t know that we have forever, or even tomorrow.” 

 

A frown tugged at his mouth, a determined set to his jaw. “I love you, Marian. We’ll find a way to make it work, or we’ll leave Kirkwall behind and settle elsewhere.”

 

Her eyes widened in surprise, then filled with tears. “You would do that for me, leave your Order behind?” she choked.

 

He caressed her cheek gently. “I would do that, and so much more, if your safety and happiness required it. I wasn’t only speaking from passion earlier. I  _will_ keep you safe.”

 

She hugged him fiercely, burying her face against his chest. “Thank you, Cullen, I love you too. I have for many years, but I never thought I would ever be able to tell you, or that you would share my feelings. It seems so outrageous to think of a templar and mage falling in love.”

 

He had never imagined in his wildest prayers and dreams, that she had been pining for him just as long as he had for her. He hugged her more tightly, nearly cracking her ribs with his sudden rush of elated emotion. 

 

“Cullen! I’m still a squishy mage. Do remember your own strength.” She laughed when he lessened his hold, looking chagrined.

 

“Forgive me, I hope I haven’t hurt you, behaving like a brute.”

 

Marian smiled placidly and patted his cheek. “Nothing that won’t mend, and I quite like your untamed side. I just have one small request for next time..”

 

He brightened visibly at her mention of  _next time_ . “What is your wish?”

 

She smiled teasingly and looked pointedly at the skirting, boots, and leathers he still wore.

 

“I think it’s only fair that we both be naked, wouldn’t you agree? And also, could we try for the bed next time, just for variety?”

 

His calculating gaze caught on the desk across the room, a slow smile spreading across his face and he glanced down with a wink. “As my lady commands. I give you my word that we’ll make it to the bed…eventually.”

 

Marian smiled and closed her eyes, content in the warm circle of his arms.

 

* * *

 

Prompt: Cullen couldn't help but fall in love with f!Hawke. I need Cullen fighting with his feelings and sexually frustrated. To end up taking it all out on Hawke after the final battle. 


End file.
